Hidden Temptations
by thisendsintragedy
Summary: What if the Slayer fell in love with a werewolf? I suck at summaries. Pairings: Buffy/Oz, Buffy/Angel us , Oz/Willow, Xander/Willow, Xander/Cordelia, Cordelia/Spike. SMUT WARNINGS.
1. At First Sight

Hidden Temptations

A Buffy & Oz fanfic

**DISCLAIMER:** So I don't own any of the BtVS characters—they belong to Joss Whedon & Mutant Enemy—but I'm gonna take credit for my idea of this story. There's rarely ANY Buffy/Oz fics, and I thought I'd show this pair some love by writing a fic about them. For some strange reason, I had a great idea that a werewolf and the Slayer would be the perfect match even though I'm a die-hard Bangel/Bangelus fan. Let's see how you guys like it, shall we?

**RATING:** M and soon to be NC-17. Language, drugs, violence, rape, and smut will be involved.

**PLOT:** Set during BtVS S2, after Angel loses his soul and the "IOHEFY" episode. Buffy is having a hard time with coping, and in a moment of insanity, turns to Oz for help. Meanwhile, Willow is cheating on the werewolf by sleeping with Xander, and it only makes Oz grow closer to Buffy as a result. But will Oz have the ability to keep her safe from the clutches of the Scourge of Europe? And can Buffy find it in her heart to kill the demon that wears her lover's face, as well as discover that her feelings for the vampire are no match for Daniel Osbourne? Some events will be changed around a bit. It'll make sense in the story, I promise!

**PAIRINGS:** Buffy/Angelus, Xander/Cordelia, Willow/Oz, Willow/Xander, Buffy/Oz, Spike/Drusilla, Spike/Cordelia

**There** was a whole new world waiting for Buffy Anne Summers—and it was right outside her mother's car window.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?"

Buffy faced her mother, Joyce, and forced a smile on her lips. "Yeah, I think so. Just uh, a little nervous."

Joyce gave her daughter a reassuring pat on the arm. "You'll do fine, Buffy," she promised in a kind voice.

"Thanks, Mom."

The uneasy blonde then opened the car door and stepped out into the bright sun, gazing up at her new high school. A tall building made of stone and brick greeted her bemused eyes.

"Oh, and Buffy?" Joyce called from the window. Buffy turned around and her mother added, "Try not to get kicked out?"

Buffy merely smiled in response. There was nothing she could say as a response to that. Her mom then waved and added a half-hearted "Good luck!" before driving off to work.

That tiny blonde wasted no time in heading toward the school's entrance, clutching her bag tightly to her chest as if it could defend her from the overwhelming uncertainty of being the obvious new girl at the school. She felt as though she wore a sign that said, "Kick me" on her back.

As she walked past a small group of guys, she heard one of them mutter, "Yo, check out the fresh meat," to one of his friends. She wanted so badly to turn around and punch the guy in the face, but she ordered herself to refrain.

_Breathe, _she told herself. _You're not the Slayer anymore, remember? You're retired—you can't do that stuff anymore. _

Not if she wanted to be "normal" anyway.

Back in her hometown in L.A. Buffy was the epitome of social stardom. She was homecoming queen, "Fiesta" queen, and she was on her Junior Varsity cheerleading squad. She'd dated the captain of the football team and was nominated prom queen—even though she was only a sophomore at the time. Everyone wanted to be Buffy's friend and every guy in school wanted to date her. But that was all before she received her Calling.

Buffy inwardly cringed at the memory of her burning down her high school gym over the obnoxious infestation of vampires it had on prom night. The image of the towering flames was so real—she felt like her skin was scorching and her lungs were choking on the acrid smoke. The thoughts were gone as if they'd never been there in the first place.

_Time to be normal again—to maybe be popular again and have friends. No more being a freak._

She just made it through the front entrance to Sunnydale High when a bell began to ring. The former-Slayer fumbled for the schedule she'd thrown in her purse earlier, hoping to find it so she could figure out which wing her locker was in. Her focus was entirely on the hunt for that stupid little paper which inhibited her from using her Slayer skills to detect that someone was about to run into her.

Suddenly, the air _whooshed_ from Buffy's lungs as someone smacked into her from behind. She bit back a growl as she turned to face the assailant, holding back her strength for her new leaf's sake.

Bug she then found herself gazing into a pair of deep green eyes and all thoughts of punching the asshole in the face instantly vanished.

_Wow,_ was all he could mentally process. Sh_e's so beautiful._

Daniel Osbourne—known to the world as "Oz"—opened his mouth to make a quick apology. "Oh man, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, no worries," the enticing blonde replied with a small smile. She straightened her white lacy top around her shoulders, and Oz fought to keep his gaze from going to her breasts.

_ Asshole. First you bump into her and now you want to check her out? _

But he sucked in a relieved breath for effect and managed to hold his eyes to her earthy, yet dreamy, stare. "Good. I was worried for a second that I knocked you out."

She surprised him by laughing. "Nah, no concussions. I guess this is just the way you people greet new girls."

_Sense of humor, _he thought with a mental smirk. _I like her._

He opened his mouth to reply with a witty comeback when the second bell rang. More kids poured into the hallways as the bell for homeroom to start came through the loudspeakers, and Oz realized he had to get to class before he was late. His honors' room was all the way upstairs across the school.

"Um, I guess I better get going," the girl suddenly said, and Oz fought back the sudden ache that arose in him.

He just nodded. "Me too. Can't be late for the first day of my senior year. It makes a bad impression for all the other days I'm going to skip and show up incredibly tardy to."

"Yeah, and it's not very promising for me to be late, either," she replied on a sigh.

"So, see ya around?"

She threw him another smile, making his heart feel like it stopped beating. "Maybe." She then tucked her head close to her chest, allowing her long, light blonde locks to fall in waves across her face, before turning away like a shy little deer and heading for the junior hallway.

Oz watched as her long, powerful legs moved in her knee-high boots and short black skirt and did all he could to not run after her and take her into the nearest storage closet where he could fuck her senseless. His inner-wolf practically tried to claw through him so it could get to the pretty blonde stranger and mate her until she was broken in and begging for his touch again and again and again. The intensity of those thoughts surprised Oz in an alarming way; the were-part inside of him never responded to a female that way.

As the redheaded werewolf walked to his homeroom in a weird haze, he inhaled deep breaths in an attempt to calm his inner beast. He made sure to steer clear of the humans around him. His adrenaline was too high, and the risk of knocking someone into a wall if they bumped into him was too great. He tried to keep his thoughts away from that tiny beauty out of his mind, but soon he acknowledged that only those thoughts could pacify his hungry wolf. She was beautiful and he sensed an immense strength about her—and not to mention, he could also smell her innocence.

By the time he took a seat to be accounted for in roll call, Oz recalled he never asked her for her name.

**History** always bored Buffy to pieces, so it didn't seem too unfair to her new teacher that she got through the class by pretending to be interested in what she was going to learn when her mind could only think about the boy she met in the hallway earlier.

_There's just something about him,_ she said to herself for the umpteenth time. _Something I can't put my finger on—but it's a something that really makes him different._

Just then the teacher asked for everyone to take out their textbooks and look up the first section they'd be covering when Buffy realized she didn't have a book for this class.

_Shit. I forgot to pick up my textbooks in the library._

But in all fairness, she didn't know where that was, so hopefully Mrs. Edwards wouldn't be too harsh on her first day.

She suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder and looked over to see a preppy brunette reaching over to share her textbook. Buffy threw the girl a quick smile. "Thanks," she whispered appreciatively.

"No problem," the brunette replied cheerfully.

The class then ended after Buffy had taken notes on which sections to read, and she hurried to stuff her notebook into her shoulder bag.

"So how do you like it here so far?"

Buffy looked up and realized that the brunette had asked her a question. "Um, it's not bad. Haven't really met anyone yet." She decided that the pale redhead with the haunting eyes didn't count. She didn't even know his name.

"Well, I'm glad to be the first official friend you made here at Sunnydale. I'm Cordelia Chase," she held out her hand and Buffy returned her handshake with a firm grip. "Ow!" Cordelia exclaimed with a slight wince. "Do you work out or something?"

Buffy turned crimson. "Uh—sometimes. S-s-sorry."

Cordelia gave her a wide-eyed look. "Yeah, I'll say. Anyway, want me to show you around?"

"Could you show me where the library is? I forgot to pick up the books that my mom ordered."

"Sure."

The two girls gathered the rest of their things and then left the classroom. As they walked down the hall, Buffy found herself recalling on her old life and the traits she used to exude when she was the most popular girl in school. It was obvious that Cordelia was Miss Queen Bee, and Buffy knew that in order to be normal, she'd have to befriend Cordelia. Maybe even steal her spotlight one day—she was totally confident that she could do it.

Cordelia then cut into her inner reverie with a clearing of her throat. "So um, Buffy, where exactly did you say you moved from?"

"Hembrey High in L.A." Buffy responded proudly.

She could tell by the look on Cordelia's face that the girl was impressed by her answer. Hembrey was known for its football team and the outrageous parties. "Wow. Hembrey, huh? Well, I'll just cut to the chase, then. If you wanna hang with me and mine, we're gonna have to test your coolness factor."

"Oh," Buffy replied uncaringly. _Is this really what I have to go through here?_ But then again, this _was_ southern California, and it was practically ingrained in every girl's blood to want to be a stuck-up priss merely for the sake of hamming up the Cali-girl image. She decided she'd play along—for now. "Sounds okay to me."

"But we can skip the intro stuff. Coming from L.A. says it all." Cordelia explained matter-of-factly. "Anyway so, Burberry?"

"Um, over?" Buffy replied, more of a question than an answer.

"_So_ over. Hmm, Tim Tebow?"

"He _needs_ to call me!" the former Slayer gushed.

"Frappuccinos?"

"Trendy, but fattening."

"Well, that one was a gimmie, but don't worry—you passed!"

Buffy made a show of clutching her chest in relief. "Oh, goodie," she breathed.

Cordelia was about to say something when the girl's eye caught on something in the hallway. Buffy looked in the direction of Cordelia's stare and saw a meek, incredibly thin redheaded girl taking a drink from the water fountain. "Rule number one," Cordelia said to Buffy from the side of her mouth, "know your geeks. Willow!" She called out to the redhead.

The girl named Willow quickly shot up and wiped her mouth clean of water. She stared at Cordelia without saying a word.

Buffy noticed that the girl was wearing one of the weirdest outfits she'd ever seen. She had on a white dress shirt and white leggings underneath an ugly green corduroy dress. Her dark red hair lay flat on her head and fell in stringy waves to her chest. There wasn't makeup on her face; Buffy couldn't even detect the smell of perfume on her.

_Poor girl, _she thought to herself. _She wouldn't last ten minutes in Hembrey. _

The tall brunette fixed Willow with a cool look. "So glad you've seen the softer side of Sears!" Cordelia then pointed with her eyes to the water fountain. "Are you done?" she demanded.

"Oh! Um, y-yeah. It's all yours." Willow then pulled her back tighter around her shoulder and scuttled away. During her hasty exit she side-swiped Buffy in the arm with her book bag and whispered a quick apology before taking off into the open courtyard without a backward glance.

Cordelia watched the girl go and shook her head in amazement. "Trust me, Buffy, if you wanna fit in here, you need to learn who your losers are. And Willow Rosenberg is the biggest one."

"She seems okay to me," Buffy hedged, unable to stop herself.

Cordelia began to drink from the fountain without bothering to look at Buffy. When she had quenched her thirst she stood up and resumed the conversation as if the blonde had never spoke. "I mean, if you wanna buddy-up to her to pass your next test or something, then by all means, be my guest. She's great to cheat off of. But anything beyond that is seriously a no-no. See, me and mine, we don't affiliate ourselves with the bottom of the food chain."

Buffy listened to Cordelia prattle on about the school's hierarchy with her mouth clamped shut and a fist clenched to her side. She'd never heard of anyone sounding as arrogant and conceited as Cordelia and prayed to the gods that she never sounded like that before. She wanted to badly to tell the spoiled bitch where she'd like her to stick her new one hundred dollar tube of lipstick but fought hard to keep the urge in check.

_ Blend in, _she reminded herself for the thousandth time. _For Christ's sake, just fucking blend in._

"Okay well, here's the library," Cordelia announced in a bored tone. "I'll meet up with you later."

"You're not going to come in?" Buffy asked nervously. Even though she wasn't thrilled about her new best friend, she didn't exactly want to be alone either.

Cordelia made a face as if she were sucking on a very sour lemon. "Me? Go in there? Ew! I'd rather be boiled alive."

"Right. See ya then."

"Come look for me before gym, okay? I'll introduce you to the rest of the girls. Oh my gosh, you'll love them and don't worry—you'll fit right in. Ta-ta darling," Cordelia blew Buffy a kiss and then sauntered away.

Buffy then walked into the library and was astounded at the sight that was before her eyes. She'd never seen the library inside of Hembrey and instantly wondered if it was as grand as the one here at Sunnydale. For some reason the winding staircases, towers of books, and small tables with lamps on them comforted her.

"Hello?" a British male voice called out to her.

"Um, hi! Uh, I'm Buffy and I'm a new student. I just need to pick up my books," she replied to the detached voice.

Suddenly a figure emerged from the stacks of books and Buffy found herself face to face with an older man who looked like the typical librarian. He was tall and thin and had slightly graying hair. He wore glasses on his pale face and was dressed smartly in a white dress shirt, gray vest, and matching slacks. When the librarian was about a few feet away from her, a small smile lit the corners of his mouth.

"You are Miss Summers?" he asked her.

Buffy nodded. "Uh, yeah. That would be me. How'd ya guess?"

"I'm Mr. Giles, um—the librarian. I was told you were coming."

"Yeah for my books. Sorry to come so late. I would've stopped in earlier but I didn't know where the library was."

"No need to worry," he told Buffy as he walked behind the counter. He bent down to where Buffy guessed he had stashed her preordered books. "I have exactly what you're looking for," Mr. Giles exclaimed as he slammed down a heavy tome with thick black leather binding.

Buffy stepped a little closer to look at the book. When she saw what it said her face instantly paled. "No," she whispered in a voice so soft even her Slayer-hearing could barely detect it. "No, that's not what I'm looking for."

Mr. Giles knitted his brows together in confusion. "Uh, are-are you sure?"

"I'm _way_ sure," Buffy replied in a stronger voice.

"Oh. Oh yes, well, I'm terribly sorry then." Mr. Giles bent down to put the book back where he got it and Buffy took this opportunity to slip out the door. "What did you say you were looking for?" the librarian called out. He looked up at the last minute to see the library door swinging shut and the last few glimpses of Buffy's bright blonde hair billowing behind her as she dashed down the hallway.

**His** wolf smelled her before he saw her.

The girl he met earlier this morning was coming down the hallway at a fast pace; he caught the scent of her vanilla and lavender perfume and marveled at how wonderfully the two mixed with the natural scent emitted when she was perspiring. But underneath those tantalizing smells, Oz was able to detect something else… something his nose didn't like.

_Fear._

Before he could stop himself, Oz rounded the hallway at the exact time the blonde did. Both of them collided with the other, causing them to lie in a heap of entangled limbs on the hall floor.

"Oomph!" Oz exclaimed as the girl's head slammed into his shoulder.

"Ow!" he heard her cry out in response.

He looked to see her rubbing her head, at the spot directly above her left eyebrow. Oz was immensely surprised when he saw she didn't even have a red mark on her, but still he was compelled to ask, "Are you okay?" in a soft, husky tone.

The fair-haired beauty lifted her enchanting green eyes to his and he instantly felt sucked into a black hole of oblivion. "I'm fine," she breathed. He saw her eyes refocus on him and what looked to be recognition dawn in her gaze. "Oh wow," she whispered. "It's you again."

Oz shot her a flirty smirk. "And who _is _me?"

"I don't know. How about you tell me?"

"Not until I know who _you_ are first."

"Buffy. My name is Buffy Summers."

_Buffy,_ Oz and the wolf inwardly growled in unison. "Buffy," the werewolf tasted her name on his tongue out loud this time, and found he enjoyed the way it melted in his mouth. "I like that name."

"What about you? Do you have a name I would possibly like?"

"I do, and it's Oz."

"Oz?" the beauty named Buffy replied with a half smile. "You mean, like the _Wizard of Oz_?"

"Maybe, if you like that movie. I guess we can go with that."

"I like it. It's very… original."

"Yeah. Yours is too."

Buffy laughed. The sound made Oz's cock begin to tingle.

_Stop, _he told the beast before it tried to take over and lose control. _She doesn't belong to us. We can't just take her._

_**Want her. Need her, **_his wolf whimpered.

___We can't have her. We're not allowed, _Oz said firmly.

_**But I want. Want so bad.**_

___We can't. Not yet, anyway._

_**When? **_His monster asked fervently. _**When can I take? When can I mate? **_

___When the time is right,_ Oz found himself replying. _We must get her to love us first. It wouldn't be fun if we were to take her by force._

_**Want her love. She is gentle. I smell her innocence. I need her touch.**_

___Soon,_ he promised to the wolf again. _Soon._

The whole time Oz was having his internal war with his wolf, he'd been staring straight into Buffy's eyes as if that was the only thing in the world he was capable of seeing. Now and then his gaze left her eyes and found her satiable lips—_her full, pink and pouty lips_—and he realized how easily he could get lost in her. She was beauty incarnate; in fact Oz thought she looked more like a goddess than a mortal. No human was lucky enough to look as perfect as Buffy Summers did.

But it was time to break the silence; Oz wasn't a man of many words, but he also wasn't a man who lacked common sense either. The redhead wasn't a fool when it came to the ladies—it was fair to say that Oz knew plenty about women and knew that they didn't like to have guys stare at their unmatchable beauty while looking like grumpy fish in an aquarium. So Oz cleared his throat and said the wittiest thing he could think of. "Fancy seeing you again, huh?"

"And under the same circumstances," she replied earnestly, not missing a beat. But then her gaze turned smoky as it pierced deeply through Oz's soul and she whispered, "Can't say I mind, though."

He tried his best to hide the delicious shiver that cut deeply into the synapses of his spine. "Can't say I do, either." He was pleased he managed to keep his voice even. "But I must say, something _is_ a bit different this time."

"Oh?" Buffy replied, arching a perfect brow at him. "And what is that?"

He cleared his throat before replying with, "Last time I saw you, you were coming into the school. Now it seems like you're trying to run away of here."

"I—I'm not running," she stammered nervously. Color instantly rose to her cheeks and she tore her gaze from his.

But Oz wasn't going to let her back off—not when he knew she was lying to him. If he didn't have his wolf to tell him that, he would've known it by the way she averted her eyes and stumbled over her words.

Without bothering to think of the rationality of the situation, Oz placed his warm hand over hers. "You don't have to feel scared, Buffy," he whispered soothingly to her. "Whatever it is, you don't have to feel alone. I know you just met me but… you just seem so stressed out all ready. And it's kinda my thing to keep people stress-free, ya know."

"Really? How do you do that?" she replied in a rather snippy voice. But rather than feel offended by her snappy tone, Oz felt turned on by it. He liked a girl with fire.

He just shrugged in response. "I like to talk. Or play music. Sometimes watching a good movie with friends helps. Especially with some drinks involved," he added as a sly after thought.

"Never drank before," Buffy admitted sheepishly. "So I don't know what that will do to me. And besides," she added, as if trying to come back on topic, "none of those things can really help me. I don't have friends to talk to or watch movies with, and the kinds of music I like to listen to just make me wanna dance. It doesn't exactly make me want to think about pain and sorrow."

"Really?" Oz asked her in surprise. "You don't seem like a girl who wouldn't have friends. You seem like you'd have a lot of them."

She looked away again. "Not anymore."

The werewolf could hear the slight sniffle in her voice and wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and ease away her pain—but he kept that thought in check. She was in too much of a fragile state, and she'd be no match for the darkness Oz carried within him. The immense strength he sensed from her earlier felt like it was being smothered—by what, he didn't know, but he didn't like that it was there in the first place.

"**Buffy,"** he said in a husky voice.

The way he said her name caused her spine to tingle as though it were being scratched by the sharp tip of a blade, and immediately she brought her gaze back to his mossy hues.

It seemed like that was all he needed to continue. Oz simply licked his lips and brushed the sensitive webbing between her thumb and forefinger with the calloused pad of his thumb. "It's a new day here, Buffy; it's a fresh start."

Buffy felt her lips curl into a small, hopeful smile. "A fresh start?"

"Sure," Oz shrugged. "Why not? I mean, really, does the stuff you did back at your old high school actually matter? It's all in the past. You can be yourself here and no one would know it; they'd all think you were trying to look like the cool new kid."

She smiled wider and couldn't help but feel appreciative to Oz for his efforts in making her feel better. "Thanks for your help," she told him gratefully. "But uh, I still think I'm going to skip out. Last class I have is gym anyway, and I don't think anyone will care that I miss it on my first day."  
>Oz shrugged noncommittally. "I guess you're right. Any idea where you're going to go though?"<p>

Buffy just shrugged. "Probably home, I guess. You don't have to worry about me, or anything like that. I have a ride there."

He raised an eyebrow in response. "You got your mom to pick you up from school early?"

"I said the cafeteria food made me sick," she replied with a smooth lie. "She's a big health nut and takes those things seriously," Buffy decided to add when she caught the flash of disbelief in Oz's eyes.

But instead of challenging her further on the subject, Oz just nodded. "Well, get home safely. Is there a chance I'll be seeing you tomorrow?"

Buffy simply shrugged. "If I can play out the food poisoning card by tomorrow morning, then by all means I'll do it. But if not, then I guess I will be seeing you tomorrow."

Oz nodded again. "Good. Then I'll see you tomorrow, Buffy Summers."

The former Slayer tried to ignore the way her neck broke out in goosebumps when he said her name. "See ya later, Oz," she said in her own husky voice, before moving to get up off the floor.

It was then that she realized Oz had been touching her the whole time, and suddenly, all Buffy wanted to do was grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him in for a bruising kiss. But she forced herself to refrain; Oz may _seem _strong, but his mortal strength would be no match for her Slayer power—even if she were to let just a little control slip. Just a little was all it would take to raise suspicion.

So all Buffy allowed herself to do was picture the naughty things that came to mind of her and this enticing stranger named Oz while staring deeply into what she felt was his soul. "You're still, um," Buffy started to say, but stopped when Oz began to trail his fingers along the top of her hand.

"Buffy," he whispered her name again, "do you have any plans for tonight?"

"Well, n-no, but um, Oz, I'm going home because I'm food poisoned, remember? I don't think my mom will let me out after I tell her that."

_But mom _isn't_ home at all. She won't be 'till way after dinnertime. She'll never know I skipped out early today. Maybe I can still go…_

But then again, why tell him that? Wasn't it better to play hard-to-get?

Oz just nodded at her reply, and she noticed he seemed to be keeping his emotions in check. He cleared his throat and said, "Well, if you manage to get out, try heading over to the Bronze. I promise it'll be worth your while."

Buffy smiled at the invitation. "Okay. If I can sneak away I'll try to find my way there."

"Good."

Buffy watched as Oz got to his feet in one fluent motion, her eyes widening as she took in how lithe and graceful he moved. Something inside her sprang to life as she watched him. It was familiar somehow, and yet, it seemed totally different from what she was used to.

But no—there was something about it. Something that made her Slayer sense quiver as if she were preparing for battle with a member of the undead society.

_Oz isn't a vampire, _she insisted to herself. _How can he be if he's able to walk around in bright daylight? _She shook her head in a daze and slowly rose to a shaky stand.

She placed about a foot of space between them when she looked up to meet his gaze. "Well, I guess this is the last I'll be seeing of you today."

"It appears so," the redhead replied sullenly. "Unless, of course, you're brave enough to come out tonight," he added with a sly smile.

Buffy shrugged. "I'll see what I can do."

"But I was _sure_ it was her!" Rupert Giles screamed into the phone. He took off his glasses with a sharp flick of his wrist and held them in his hand while he cradled the phone on his shoulder. He grabbed the bridge of his nose in disgust with his other hand, feeling incredibly peeved at the imbeciles he was forced to work with.

He'd been on the phone with a secretary from the Watchers' Council for about a half hour before he was transferred to an Elder Watcher who'd been one of the professors Giles had studied under during his novice years at the Council. But instead of it being the man he wanted to talk to, some blasted idiot who called himself "Spencer Adams" was on the line, and Giles was about to lose his temper on him.

"Damnit, I _know_ I could have made a mistake in all this!" Giles growled into the phone. "But for heaven's sake, could you please listen to me, man? Listen now, I—I—no, now don't you take that tone with me, sir. I am trying to explain myself, here! Yes… yes… yes, sir, I understand whom I'm speaking to but honestly, Mr. Adams if you don't let me speak my piece I _will_ report this incident to my representative and… oh. Oh you will now? Why, yes, thank you. Anyway, so you see…"

The phone call lasted for another forty-five minutes before Giles finally hung up. He rubbed his throbbing temples with the tips of his fingers and took deep, calming breaths. "Everything is all right," he told himself gently. "She could be the Slayer. She hasn't gone to the authorities by now, and the only explanation is that she knows about them. So, if she's not the Slayer, who is she then?"

After consulting his books and making a few phone calls to some friends in higher places, Giles left the library feeling incredibly satisfied with the knowledge he discovered. Without a doubt in his mind that he did _indeed_ meet the right girl, he decided to make a stop to see a colleague in town that could help him in his new conquest of getting Buffy Summers to be the Slayer again. That Irish nutcase he knew would be perfectly suited for the job.


	2. High and Dry

Hidden Temptations

A Buffy & Oz fanfic

**DISCLAIMER:** So I don't own any of the BtVS characters—they belong to Joss Whedon & Mutant Enemy—but I'm gonna take credit for my idea of this story. There's rarely ANY Buffy/Oz fics, and I thought I'd show this pair some love by writing a fic about them. For some strange reason, I had a great idea that a werewolf and the Slayer would be the perfect match even though I'm a die-hard Bangel/Bangelus fan. Let's see how you guys like it, shall we?

**RATING:** M and soon to be NC-17. Language, drugs, violence, rape, and smut will be involved.

**PLOT:** _**PLEASE IGNORE LAST PLOT NOTE.**___I wrote that when I wanted to take a different spin on the series, but now I have a better idea, and this is what that "better idea" entails:

**Oz** is the first person Buffy meets in Sunnydale. He's all ready a werewolf and hasn't even met Willow yet. Xander and Willow are still best friends, Giles is still the librarian/Ripper and still gets it on with Jenny, and Angel and Buffy will fall in love as planned. Willow will also get Oz, but it will be a strange love triangle. Smut happens on all occasions. Secondary mentions of Spike, Drusilla, Cordelia, Ethan Rayne, and Anya will take place. Some events from the show will still happen. Slightly AU. I suck at summaries.

**PAIRINGS:** Buffy/Angelus, Xander/Cordelia, Willow/Oz, Willow/Xander, Buffy/Oz, Spike/Drusilla, Spike/Cordelia

**As **Buffy the Retired Vampire Slayer walked the half hour trek to her house, she felt trapped within a strange state of mind.

Not only was she thinking about Oz, but she was also thinking about the strange encounter she had today with the librarian. What was his name? Mr. Gilbert or something like that? Why did he show her that book? Was that some kind of sick joke? Could he really know about her past? If so, then who told him?

It wasn't like her Watcher could've told him—Merrick was dead. He was killed at the hands of a vampire right in front of Buffy's eyes, and she hadn't had the strength to stop the bastard. The only reason she'd gone ahead and burnt down the school gym was as a debt to her late Watcher—_not_ because she was accepting her new superhero status. She wanted to be normal again, and decided that if she needed to befriend someone like Cordelia in order to achieve run-of-the-mill teenage normalcy then she'd do it. Being bitchy and popular was a life Buffy had been proud to lead before, so what was so different about it this time?

_Could it be because I'm meant to be the Slayer?_ She asked herself. _Am I making a huge mistake by not being the girl I was born to be? _

Buffy wanted to shake her head at how melodramatic her thoughts were when—probably out of the sickest humor God could bestow upon her—a cemetery came into view. The blonde bit back a hysterical giggle when she saw how bittersweet irony could sometimes be.

It was still daylight, and even though Buffy knew there'd be no vampires lurking around the hallowed grounds, she still felt compelled to go in there anyway. Her Slayer sense began to tingle at the sight of the ominous looking grave site and couldn't help but feel curious as to what monsters could possibly be hiding in there. A bitter chill crept up her spine as her eyes surveyed the graves, her muscles ached for the battle, but she made no moves to go over there.

_What the hell am I even thinking? _She asked herself.

She had no training; she was weak and lacked focus, and honestly, she didn't think she had what it took to take on a group of vampires—let alone one of them.

With a resigned sigh and another shake of her head, she decided to play it smart and go home.

When she finally reached the comfort of her bed, Buffy melted into the sheets and fell into right into a deep sleep. All the excitement from the past six hours or so obviously was too much for her. Within minutes of sleeping, Buffy's subconscious began to take over, and haunting images from her past started to resurface.

Flashbacks of the flames she created that burnt down her old gymnasium. Staking her first vampire. Lothos. Seeing Merrick murdered right before her eyes and not lifting a hand to fight for him. Pike. Losing her friends.

Those were hard enough to deal with in real life, but reliving them in her dream world hurt twice as much. The ache though, was soon replaced by mind-altering fear.

The book that the librarian showed her. A shiny necklace with a silver cross on it dangling from her hand. Dozens of vampires charging toward her all at once while she stood weaponless and alone without the skills to defend herself. A pale, red-eyed vampire with blood staining his mouth—draining her.

Buffy bolted upright, a scream locked in her throat. She couldn't breathe, and her skin was breaking out in a cold sweat. And the walls were closing in on her—fast.

_I'm trapped! _She inwardly cried. _I can't get out! Is this part of the nightmare? Am I still dreaming? Oh God, please, _please_ tell me I'm still dreaming!_

But she _was_ awake and the claustrophobia was real; her breath began to return in short, ragged intervals, and the survival instincts she'd forgotten over the months came back at her full force.

_Air,_ she told herself, and propelled herself into motion. She barreled out of bed, tripped up in the tangled bed sheets, and stumbled into her bedroom windowsill. Buffy threw open the window and began to inhale deep breaths from the chilly air. She must've fallen asleep for quite a while, because the sky was darker and the sun was slipping quickly below the horizon. The former Slayer used her enhanced hearing to detect any noises indicating a sign that her mother was home from the Gallery, but all she got in return was lonely silence.

_Better this way,_ she told herself—despite the aching sadness that began to fill the empty pit in her belly. She was thankful her mom wasn't home during her nightmare, in a way, because then she'd have a lot of explaining to do and didn't want to have her mom worry about her more than what she all ready did.

When she felt her breathing had returned to normal, Buffy abandoned her post by the window and went to her adjoining bathroom to relieve herself. After fulfilling the call of nature, she retrieved her medication from its spot under the sink and took two small blue pills. She washed the bitter taste from her mouth and went back into her new bedroom. She stopped in the doorway, peering around at the foreign quarters she'd forever be calling her sanctuary, but she felt anything _but_ calm and relaxed within the confines; instead she still felt choked, tightly surrounded, and wanted nothing more than to bolt out of the house and never come back.

"God," Buffy sighed, taking her throbbing head in her hands. "I need to do something with my time."

Buffy started to go downstairs when she noticed she was still in her clothes from school. She frowned at the way her tight skirt bunched up around her thighs, and not to mention her new lacy top was now wrinkled. Courtesy of the cheap bed sheets her mom talked her into getting. Buffy simply sighed and changed into sweatpants and a gray tank top.

Now that she was comfortable, it was time to actually _do_ something that could keep her mind off what had just happened a few minutes earlier.

She went downstairs and made herself a snack out of yogurt and bananas and settled on the couch for some brainless TV entertainment. It was well past six now—her mother should be home any minute—and the only thing that was probably on was soap operas or depressing movies on _Lifetime._ Buffy decided to settle on a sitcom called _Married… With Children_ when the phone began to ring.

"Uck!" she screeched, tearing herself away from her comfy spot on the couch. "Where the hell _is_ that stupid phone?" she grumbled. The phone was on its fourth ring when she finally found it. Stuffed underneath her mother's lounge chair. "Hello?" she answered in a disgruntled voice.

"Oh Buffy, you're home," her mother replied. Buffy was glad Joyce couldn't see her flip her middle finger up at the phone in response at how annoyingly relieved her mom sounded. "I was just calling to see how school was. Did you make any friends yet?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I did actually. I really hit it off with a girl from my History class." Okay, so, maybe Cordelia and her weren't going to be _real_ friends or anything, but the snobby rich girl counted as an acquaintance for now.

"Oh that's wonderful, sweetheart. Listen, I'm going to be late at the Gallery tonight. If you want, see what your new friend is doing. I don't want you in that house alone."

_Afraid I'm going to burn it down?_ Buffy thought to herself with malice.

Even though she was relieved that she was going to have the house to herself for the rest of the night, the young blonde couldn't help but feel uncomfortable at the thought of being alone anymore. She _did_ need to go out and stretch her legs before she went bat-shit crazy, and that was most definitely going to happen if she kept herself locked up in this prison of a home for just a minute longer. "Okay, I'll see what she's doing," Buffy replied smoothly. "Good luck with everything, Mom. See you soon."

Joyce had just gotten out her goodbye to her daughter when Buffy threw the phone on the coffee table with a loud _BANG!_ Thankfully she held back her strength, lest she wanted to explain to her mother why the phone was broken in a thousand tiny splinters. The Once-Chosen girl raked a hand through her long hair and puffed out an exasperated breath.

_So what the hell am I going to do now? _she asked herself.

It wasn't like Buffy to stay inside—even on a school night. If she were back home in L.A., Buffy would all ready be out with her three best friends by now, riding around in the car her father used to let her borrow, going to the mall or the movies or sneaking out to a party where her older boyfriend Jeffrey most likely was. She never stayed home—even when she began her Slayer duties she was out training with Merrick or hunting for vampires or hanging out with Pike.

_Oh,_ Buffy thought as she recalled on her last… "boyfriend." _Pike. I don't even know if I… miss him._

But as soon as Buffy's mind went on that train of thought, another track appeared. Her mind then went down the opposite road where a destination called "Oz Land" dwelled. Just picturing that sexy, deliciously pale senior named Oz sent chills and thrills down the length of her spine. She bit back a sigh as she recalled on the second encounter she had with mysterious ghost—when he touched her and said her name in such a way that every bit of moisture in her body felt like it had gathered together in one big puddle between her thighs. There was something about him… something she just couldn't figure out, but wanted to find out so _very_ bad.

And, not to mention that strange feeling she got when they'd parted the second time; Buffy still couldn't shake the thought that there was something… _inhuman_ about Oz. Maybe he was really strong, or maybe he was special like her, or maybe he _was_ something bad, but he definitely _was_ a something that made old Slayer instincts kick into overdrive and prepare for a bloody battle. What could that something _be_, though?

Without giving it much thought, Buffy _just knew_ what to do. She bolted up the stairs and went straight to the bathroom. She had _a lot _of preparing to do for the kind of investigating she was going to do tonight.

**There **was a strange kind of change in the atmosphere that Oz had never experienced in the Bronze before. The air smelled differently to the werewolf, and there was some sort of electric current radiating through the airwaves that caused every one of his hairs to stand on end.

"Can you feel it, buddy?" the leader of his band, Devon, hissed with excitement in his ear.

For a crazy moment Oz thought that maybe Devon sensed the strange something as well, but decided to play it safe. He simply turned to his friend and raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Feel what, dude?"

"This _tension___in the air, man!" Devon said, shoving Oz's shoulder.

"_What_ tension?" the redhead replied, shoving his friend off him.

But Devon just rolled his eyes as if he were speaking English to a Chinese man. "The _sexual_ tension, you moron."

"Oh," Oz said lamely. Thank God he didn't voice his thoughts aloud; Devon was too dense to have a serious conversation—let alone harbor an intelligent thought in his head. And although what his friend said was true, it wasn't the feeling he was picking up on. This was something powerful, darker, something completely foreign that Oz had never experienced before.

Just then a sultry brunette brushed past them, and Oz caught a strong whiff of her scent. _**Cordelia Chase**_**,** his wolf told him. He knew the junior; she was daddy's rich and snobby little princess. She was also stunningly beautiful, but with a harsh personality like hers, Oz never felt the desire to even fuck her for a one-night stand.

But Devon's taste in women was much different than his companion's. As soon as Cordelia past by his perch on the stage, Devon jumped off and called out her name. "Cordelia," he said to her in a purring voice.

The leggy brunette turned around and arched a finely-waxed brow at Devon. "What?" she retorted, appearing disgusted by the sight of him.

Devon merely smiled at her, amused at how much of a bitch the girl tried to be. "Care for a dance?"

"With you?" Cordelia spat at him, her words dripping with venom. She rolled her eyes. "_Please._ As if I'd even be caught _dead_ being in your arms." Without waiting for him to reply, Cordelia turned sharply on her heel and resumed her march away from him.

Devon just stood flummoxed as he watched her leave, his mouth dropping completely down to the floor as she surveyed how great her ass looked in that red dress.

Oz had watched the whole scene in amazement and had managed to hold back his hysteric laugh until he knew Cordelia was totally out of hearing range. He then exploded into a laughing fit until he felt his cheeks start to turn as red as his hair.

The disgruntled Devon turned back at the amused Oz and shot him a pointed look. "What the hell is so funny?" he growled.

"Your face," was all Oz managed to choke out between the laughs. He continued to point and laugh at his friend—only milking the opportunity simply to relieve the unsettling feeling he had moments before—and when he finally began to settle down and wipe the tears from his eyes, a sharp prickling sensation crept up his spine.

His eyes quickly darted to the entrance of the club and tried to use his superhuman vision to peer through the interior's darkness and the clusters of bodies that were in his way. For a second he thought he caught a glimpse of a tall, black figure standing just on the outside of the dance floor, watching him. But when he tried to adjust his seat for a better view, the figure was gone.

_**Could that have been our woman?**_ His wolf asked with an excited whimper.

_Not our woman,_ Oz replied tartly.

_**Not yet,**_ the demon countered, perfectly mimicking Oz's tone.

The werewolf simply chose to stop arguing with himself and realize that it wasn't Buffy he'd seen in the doorway. If it was, his wolf would've sensed it. It had all ready picked up her scent by the second time it encountered her—if it was Buffy standing there, he would've known it was her.

Besides, the strange presence he felt was way too… _cold_ to be the enchanting blonde. He'd suddenly felt an icy draft come upon him after he turned away from the club's entrance, and somehow he just _knew_ that the cold air was somehow linked to the mysterious person he saw watching him from across the dance floor. If it were Buffy he'd be hot, hungry, and hard for her all ready. He probably would've taken her as soon as he confirmed her identity—right out to the back of his van where he could fling her on his sham carpet and shamelessly fuck her into wild abandon.

His inner beast growled in approval at the images in Oz's mind. _**Mmm. She'd be so delicious.**_

___That's enough from you, _Oz snapped back.

He decided he needed to get a few minutes to himself, so he simply told the still-sulking Devon that he was going to take a piss and headed off to the bathroom without hesitation.

Once he reached the private men's room for the musicians, Oz took out a joint from his pocket and lit it. He sat down on the floor and decided to use the toilet as an ash-bowl, and proceeded to toking his little heart out. Getting high was one of the few ways that could make his wolf leave him alone.

He sat on the floor of the dingy bathroom, enjoying his blissful solace, and soon his thoughts began to head toward Buffy. She was just so beautiful. And small. And the way she moved was pure poetry in motion. She seemed far too perfect to simply be human. He'd hoped that upon meeting her he'd sense a fellow wolf in her as well, but anon, he'd been disappointed. There was however, something very different about Buffy that he couldn't place. The peculiar maiden carried something inside her that no other girl had. And the way she responded to him so strongly…

Oz knew right then, sitting on a bathroom floor while smoking a joint that he could _never_ allow Buffy to catch on to the secret he had to keep from her. Ever since he'd been Changed, he hadn't thought much having a serious relationship with a girl. It'd be too weird, too risky to allow him to get close to someone when he'd have to make up lame excuses every Full Moon why he couldn't see her. The amount of suspicion that could arise would be enough to put his life in mortal danger.

He promised himself he wouldn't ever allow Buffy to see himself for what he really was. And in order to do that, he'd have to stay away from her altogether.

_If that's what I have to do,_ he reasoned with himself, _then I'll do whatever it takes to stick to that promise._

After his joint became a fat roach between his fingers, he snuffed it out and exited the bathroom feeling ten times better. He was calm and in full control; the wolf was firmly sedated thanks to the wonders of marijuana, and Oz simply felt pumped up to perform. The Dingoes just came up with a bitchin' new song that was sure to blow the bras off of every girl in the place, and the new guitar solo he recently perfected was included in it. Everything was finally back to normal in the Land of Oz, and he was thankful for the reprieve.

But then he saw Devon flirting with a _very_ specific tiny blonde, and every bit of serenity Oz was starting to feel suddenly ignited in flames of fury.

_Mine!_ He shouted to himself. _Buffy is _mine!

_**Ours!**_ His wolf corrected to him with a ferocious roar.

Oz's teeth gnashed together in blind anger and strode with predatory grace toward them. He caught glimpses of her full, pink lips curving into a bright smile, heard the light melody of her sweet laugh, the soft tendrils of hair cascading over her shoulder. Possessiveness claimed every nerve in his body, but he never slowed his pace. She was his. Even though he refused to claim her, she was still his. And no one could have her. Not Devon. Especially _not_ Devon.

**She **sensed he was there before she'd actually seen him, but that still didn't prevent her body from shaking savagely.

But Buffy refused to let that show; she tried to tune him out as she tolerated this boy Devon's absurd attempt at flirting, but the closer he came the harder it became for her to hold it together.

_Just don't think about him,_ she told herself. But that was a hopeless suggestion. There was nothing she could do to keep Oz out of her mind. She'd only known him for a day, but all ready the connection between them was too strong to ignore.

"So, would you like to dance?" Devon just asked, leaning closer to her.

Buffy flinched from his close proximity and met his hazel eyes with a stern look in hers. "Maybe later, but not now. Thanks for asking, though."

"You might miss your chance, babe," he replied, making his tone sound like a horrible purr. "And besides," he added, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her even closer before Buffy had time to protest, "I wouldn't want you to throw your shot away at getting with the lead singer of tonight's headliner."

Buffy made a disgusted sound and pushed Devon firmly away from her. "I think I'll take my chances, thanks."

"Is there a problem here?"

Buffy and Devon turned to Oz at the same time, who stood about two feet from them. Buffy couldn't help but flash him an appreciative smile. But the look Oz gave her in return made all the flesh crawl off her bones.

"Is he bothering you?" he asked her in a raw, detached voice.

Buffy was suddenly alarmed by the feral look in his eyes, and wanted nothing more than to extract herself from the danger that was pouring off his body. "N-n-no," she stammered. "I was just about to leave, anyway."

"Aw, don't leave!" Devon whined to her. He turned to Oz and moved to cuff his shoulder with a raised fist. "Look what you've done, dude! Now she's gonna leave 'cause you scared her!"

Buffy watched in amazement as Oz perfectly deflected the slug to his shoulder. "I think it was _you_ who was scaring her," he hissed through gritted teeth.

"Look," she suddenly piped up, realizing that the tension suddenly escalating to a new level. "I didn't mean to cause a fight, so I'm just gonna go over to my own little corner now and—"

"Mind if I join you?" Oz asked her, his tone suddenly more controlled.

She saw no harm in his request, and honestly, she may as well put a bullet in her mouth if she refused him. _He_ was the reason she'd come here. _He_ was all she could think about.

She simply nodded, but couldn't hold back her smile. "I'd like that. Nice to meet you, David," she said to Devon, and then waited for Oz to join her.

He simply shot his friend a crooked smile before coming over to stand by her side. He closed the distance between them in a matter of a millisecond before he'd slipped his hand over hers and led her to the bar. "Would you like a soda or something?" he asked her.

Buffy told him she'd like a strawberry lemonade and he turned to the bartender to order one for both of them. She smiled again, surprised he recalled on the fact that she didn't drink. Even though he wasn't of drinking age himself, he had a band around his wrist that claimed he was 21. She liked that he chose not to drink around her, almost like he didn't want to flaunt a temptation in front of her.

_Too bad you all ready are,_ she sighed.

Oz then turned back to her with both drinks in his hands. "Would you like to sit down?"

"That'd be great."

He led her to a high table that sat in the back corner of the Bronze, with just the light of a solitary candle to illuminate their faces. Butterflies began to take flight within Buffy's stomach at how utterly romantic the setting was. When they reached the table, Oz had set the drinks down before pulling out a chair for her and offering to take her leather jacket for her.

Buffy blushed at his chivalry and shook her head. "That's okay, thanks. I'll keep it on 'till I warm up. It's kinda cold back here."

Oz just smiled and placed an incredibly warm hand on hers. "Let me help you up, then?" he bargained in a smooth voice.

She couldn't refuse the husky drawl of his voice, so she just nodded at him for permission. Her hand gripped his as he lifted her up in one light, fluent motion, but it was totally unnecessary. He'd handled her with perfect ease and she was all ready planted in her seat before she realized her feet had left the ground. She'd only noticed she was sitting because she'd all of a sudden reached eye level with him. Not to mention, his hand was so warm and soft and was transferring intense body heat into her. Buffy was tingling everywhere.

Suddenly Oz smirked, as if he knew her secret thoughts, and she blushed furiously while trying to pull her hand from his.

He still held on though—not in a way that hurt her—and used the same trick he'd done on her earlier; he began to rub the pad of his thumb across her knuckles. "Comfy?" he asked in a low, scratchy voice.

She just nodded and let out a weak, "Uh-huh."

"Good," he replied, and then suddenly his hand was gone. But the heat still lingered. Burned deep into her pores like a liquid flame.

He then settled himself across from her, pushing her drink closer to her hands, all the while keeping his gaze on her. It never left hers, even when he brought his glass up to his lips and tipped the contents of it down his throat.

Buffy sucked in a breath when she caught a glimpse of his tongue as it snaked out of his mouth and licked a stray drop of his beverage from the side of the glass.

_ The places I'd like for that tongue to lick me,_ she told herself wickedly. But she cooled that train of thought down with a sip of her own drink. _Mmm, yummy._ Buffy was about to set her glass down when she saw that Oz was watching her intently—maybe looking to see if she was going to play into his game?

Without thinking twice of her actions, she nipped at one of the larger ice cubes in her drink and sucked it between her puckered lips for just a moment—all the while making sure she kept her gaze locked with the redhead's. When she saw his cheeks deepen with that adorable red blush of his, she'd forced herself not to smile, but still felt smug satisfaction nonetheless. _I have him,_ she observed in triumph. _I have him just like he has me._

A few moments passed by with the two of them just gazing intently into one another's eyes. Buffy was so entranced by the forest green hues of his eyes that she couldn't think of a logical reason as to why she should look away. It'd be a crime to look at anything else.

And Oz refused to avert his gaze, simply because the burning hunger he had inside him wouldn't allow such a thing to happen. His wolf howled and roared and whimpered and moaned for her. His cock grew hard and his balls tight with desire. Need. Unbridled urges to slam relentlessly into her tight ass body without thinking twice about the fact that she was a virgin—because she'd teased him too.

She'd sucked on that ice between those delicious, luscious lips of hers and made him wish that it were his dick instead of a piece of ice in her mouth. He was jealous of it, and wanted nothing more than to feel Buffy's silken lips wrapped around the entire bass of his cock, pumping and sucking and licking every inch of it.

The former Slayer was oblivious to Oz's scandalous thoughts, however, but she suddenly grew aware of the situation as if it'd come out of nowhere as a train and smacked right into her. Where the hell were these thoughts coming from? And what the hell was she doing with all these puppy dog stares anyway? She was acting like a total idiot.

Oz then lipped his lips, which totally did _not_ help anything, and then shot her a cute lopsided grin. "So, you managed to make it out, huh?"

Buffy swallowed thickly and made an attempt to clear her throat before answering. "My mom didn't come home from her job yet." _Damn it! Why does my voice make me sound like a friggin' man?_

But if her voice had bothered him, Buffy was sure he wouldn't still be smiling, or looking at her as if she were the most amazing thing in the world. "So you just decided to come out?"

"Pretty much. Kinda didn't feel like staying in." She made sure to add a nonchalant shrug to not seem so melodramatic.

She watched as Oz took her features in for a moment. It seemed like he were… reading right into her. "Well, for whatever reason, I'm glad you decided to show."

Buffy instantly brightened at that. "Really?" she said through a huge smile, even drawing herself up to her full height at how _happy_ that made her feel.

Oz nodded at her before taking another sip of his drink. And then left some of it on his mouth. And then swiped his soft tongue across it, leaving his lips wet and shiny and oh so tempting to kiss. _"Really._ You decided to show on a good night."

Buffy smiled at him. Took a sip. Left some on the rim. Slid a dainty finger across it. Then sucked it into mouth. And batted her long lashes at him. And then smiled with incredibly sweetness and asked, "Oh? And why is that?"

He surprised her when he just shrugged, but his eyes held a lustful gleam that was impossible to hide. "You'll find out. It's kind of a surprise."

"You have a surprise for me all ready?" she laughed. "My God, I've only known you for less than a day and you've all ready made every guy I've ever met seem so boring in comparison."

"Does that include Devon?" he replied gruffly.

It should have bothered her that Oz was being so possessive of her all ready, but in truth, that only made Buffy like him more. Jeffrey—her first serious boyfriend—was a womanizing, egotistical asshole who never showed an interest in Buffy other than being seen at parties with her or making out. Pike was just a glitch in her love life; he'd been appealing because he was different and rebellious, but those two things were the only attributes that really drew Buffy to him. No real sparkage between either of the previous guys in her love life.

But Oz… Oz was a whole different playing field.

And if she'd ever want a man to possess her fully, she had a feeling she'd like it to be the older redheaded mystery sitting across from her.

Buffy drew herself back to the present conversation and told Oz she wasn't interested in Devon. "As soon as I walked by him he got my attention. Kind of bumped into me and started telling me he was the lead singer in tonight's headlining band, and I didn't have the heart to tell him to shut up. It was only when he started grabbing me that I got really uncomfortable."

Oz nodded solemnly. "That's Devon for you. He's a character with the ladies."

"And what about you?" Buffy countered swiftly. "How are _you_ with the ladies?"

"No one has ever complained about me," he shrugged.

"Hmm," she mused aloud. "Well, I guess that's not a bad thing. No complaints must mean that you're not a heartbreaker."

"You are though," Oz replied in a soft voice. The look he gave her—as if he were studying her under a microscope—cut deep down to her core and made her feel open, vulnerable, and downright naked under his gaze.

Buffy just blushed and started sipping her drink. Oz did the same, and for a few minutes they sat together in comfortable silence.

**Finally,** after what had felt like an eternity, Oz set down his empty glass and asked Buffy if she'd like another drink. She just shook her head with a light smile and set her finished beverage on the table next to his. The entire time sitting with her, Oz had fought so hard to keep his wolf in check. It was no easy feat; simply being in Buffy's presence antagonized the beast in such blind heat, and the werewolf was fighting his instincts hard to mate her with every second that passed within being near her.

It was his fault he'd started the flirting in the first place though—he'd licked the delicious strawberry lemonade from his glass first, and made Buffy retaliate by sucking an ice cube into her mouth. Then, when his wolf had recognized her challenge, he'd pushed himself into licking his lips. And then she'd nearly made him come undone by the seams when she'd sucked on her finger…

_Need to stop thinking about it,_ Oz reminded himself sternly.

He looked over at the golden goddess and offered her what he hoped wasn't a feral, wolfish grin. But by the way Buffy smiled back, he knew he hadn't fucked up. "I know you've probably been asked this a lot all ready but, would you like to dance with me?"

Her shimmering green eyes met his steadily and she said, "I may have been asked that a lot tonight, however you're the first person I'm going to say yes to."

His wolf growled in approval.

"Good," Oz clarified, and jumped down from his seat to come over to hers. He stood by her side and offered her his hand again, which this time, Buffy took without hesitation. As soon as their skin touched, Oz felt a hot blaze of heat sear through him. He kept a gentle hold on her hand as he helped her down, and even wrapped his other arm around her waist to keep her from toppling over in her killer heeled boots.

"Thanks," Buffy breathed when he set her down on her feet. She was looking up at him with those captivating eyes of hers and still had a smile on those pretty pink lips.

"You're welcome," he sputtered, his head suddenly swimming with the realization that she was close enough for him to kiss right now, right here, right at this very moment in time.

In truth though, how could he resist?

Her hair was long and wavy, and curled perfectly at her perky, full rounded breasts. Her eyes were darkened with liner, but bright at the same time with the shimmery shadow she wore. Her cheeks were naturally flushed, her lips full and pouty. And for fuck's sake—her taste in clothing was phenomenal. Black boots and a simple little navy blue dress with a biker's leather jacket to complete the look. She was an innocent maiden disguised as a provocative siren whom boiled his blood and made his wolf howl like no other female ever could.

And how he wanted so badly to kiss her…

But he just smiled instead, knowing he couldn't risk getting too close to her. Yet. The wolf. Her fragility. Not to mention, they weren't exactly of the same species.

"Care to lead the way?" he asked her as means of a distraction. Buffy took his cue without complaint by grabbing his hand and leading him to the dance floor.

She didn't stop until she was in the center of the thrashing bodies and as soon as she felt satisfied with her surroundings, Oz watched in both fascination and horror at how instantly her body responded to the song that was currently playing. It was a slow and sensual rock number that made Buffy's hips sway and her hands flow around her sides. She threw back her head in sheer abandonment and began to let loose, rocking her lower body in perfect beat with the music. The werewolf watched, utterly transfixed, at how flawless she moved and couldn't help but picture that small, extraordinary blonde moving in a similar way but in a different setting: under him, sighing and screaming as he thrust powerfully into her warm, silken sheath, clutching and tearing at his back and all the while crying out his name as he brought her over the edge of oblivion…

But he couldn't. Shouldn't. Wouldn't. Not when her life was at stake—and it was. Just being around him was hazardous to her health.

So with a resigned sigh and stronger resolve than he thought he possessed, Oz waited until Buffy had turned around before he made his swift exit. Even though it hurt him to do this to her, he knew it had to be done.

He kept walking without bothering to look back at her.


End file.
